Hell Hath No Fury
by Keepitlocked
Summary: Alex Rider has become a household name synonymous with retribution in the world of espionage. When an unknown enemy attacks his friends with devastating effects, Alex goes on a hunt to find those responsible. Despite protests from the CIA, MI6 can't seem to reign in their star agent, and the intelligence society is about to learn just why you're not supposed to wrong Alex Rider.
1. Chapter 1

He was sitting in the study, all forms of light extinguished but for the moonlight which streamed through the window and lit his hair to an almost blazing blond-white. A glass of ice-cool water was held absent-mindedly in his hand while his other stroked his bottom lip in deep thought.

At first, the slight scratching noise didn't register. Neither did the faint thump that followed.

It was the blood-curdling scream of his name that was able to tear through his subconsciousness, and it grabbed his attention with the grip of a boa constrictor around his throat.

"**_Alex_**_!"_

It cut through the 4 am silence that had settled just as well as a gunshot would have, and the incredulity of what could possibly be happening froze Alex Rider for a second.

The fog cleared and he exploded out of his chair, out of the study, and was running toward the bedroom where Sabina Pleasure stayed, glass still in hand and all but forgotten.

He burst through the door and allowed every fibre of his being to turn to the experience that had kept him alive for so many years.

Tom lay on the floor, presumably unconscious from the bleeding gash on his forehead that he could barely see through the darkness. Sabina was easy enough to distinguish with her white shirt going starkly against the dark colours of the intruders. She was clawing and biting and kicking and screaming with all her might.

But it was her against three others, and they had come prepared. Alex realised in that split-second assessment, as two more intruders came running down the hall, that they stood no chance.

That didn't mean that they would go down without a fight though. Without another second lent to thinking, Alex threw his water at the one trying to subdue Sabina, he then proceeded to leap forward and bring the glass smashing into the side of the man's face.

Even as the fragile glass shattered with the force, and even as they embedded themselves into his palm, Alex gripped the remaining shards and brought it back into the man's face again, this time grounding it in.

He could hear Sabina yelling in the background as she scrambled away, but he ignored it in favour of a roundhouse kick, once again aiming to hurt the man's face.

Alex felt hands come around him and instinctively punched his elbow back powerfully enough to have himself released. He spun around and all he could see in the darkness was darker figures.

What the hell had they done with Sabina?

The soft carpet tickled his feet and he realised belatedly that he was barefoot. That put him at an even bigger disadvantage, but it didn't matter.

Almost blindly, although not quite, Alex punched and swiped and jabbed, trying to protect all quarters.

It was a losing battle, but he felt satisfaction with every blow he was able to land. All in all, it was only seconds, minutes at most, when they finally got to him with a hard hit to his cranium. Black spots danced in front of his eyes as he fought to stay awake, then he heard someone swear and something pricked his neck.

His last thought before he blacked out was that he really fucking hated needles.

* * *

**Author's note: I'll be uploading the second chapter later tonight or early tmrw. **

**This story is going to get very explicit and may be unsettling for some of you. I advise that you try to read with discretion and apologise in advance, but I wanted to try something different and a bit darker, maybe a little more mature?**

**Review so I can have feedback and etc. i really want to know if this story will work or not.**

**KIL.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Alex? Alex!"

Gritting his teeth to stop the reflexive moan from rolling out of his throat, Alex grimaced and opened his eyes to more darkness.

A dull throb and gentle probing discovered a rather large lump on the side of his skull. It twinged when he touched it, so he decided to leave it be. Alex sat up gingerly, hands touching cold, gritty concrete, and scooted closer to the bars of his cell. His right hand stung and he inspected it in the dull light to discover numerous cuts and even some glass had been grounded into his palm. It was a minor pain in the face of their situation.

The sound of shackles dragging across the floor was loud in the silence, and brief irritation flashed through him at the realised handicap. He would get out of them later; it was not what he needed to dwell on just about now.

The only light allowed bled through a door out of his sight and it illuminated the small corridor, so he cranked his head around to try and find the source. He needed to scope out the place.

Bad move. Alex grimaced again and brought a hand up to the side of his neck. Whoever had drugged him had practically stabbed the needle in, and it hurt like... a bruise, for lack of a better word.

"Alex?" The same voice, but pitched higher. Due to a mixture of stress, hope and fear, he thought nonchalantly as he studied the bars. Lifting a finger, he scratched it and flakes of rust came away. Wrapping a hand around one bar, he quietly pulled at it.

It moved a little, maybe a millimetre, and he decided that if he wanted to escape, it would take considerable strength – repeatedly used, of course – to get out. It would also produce a lot of noise. Alex smiled to himself, it wasn't impossible to get out, though, and that meant he could do it.

"Hello...?" called the voice again.

Alex cleared his throat. "I'm over here, Tom."

"Alex? Oh, thank god you're here." Worry wormed into his best friend's voice. "Sabina's still unconscious; do you want me to wake her?"

"They put Sabina in the cell with you?" That was unusual, he thought with a subtle shiver. Why keep those two together but leave him alone?

"Yeah, I can't move though."

Alarm streaked through Alex. "Are you paralysed?" he tried to stay calm.

"What – no, no. I'm chained up against the wall. Sabina's cuffed, too, but hers are attached to long chains. She can move around."

"Wake her up." he ordered.

"Sabina? Hey, wake up. Sab, come on," – a soft groan the answer – "That's it, darling, wake up for me."

"Wha –" She paused, coughed and then cleared her throat. "What's going on?" The roughness of her tone was evidence of her screaming so much.

"You don't remember? Think."

"My head hurts, I can't –" Another pause. "Oh, shit, my parents!" She took on a panicked tone this time.

"Sabina," Alex called softly from his cell.

The rattle of chains was heard as she scrambled to see where he was. Too bad, since he couldn't see her either. "Alex? Oh God, Alex, my parents. What if they –"

"Calm down," he said sharply. "I'm sure they were just drugged, it's how they got us, and so it's more likely they left your parents alive." Nausea gnawed at his stomach; just the same, they could've killed her parents to save themselves from any later trouble. Alex shook his head, he refused to believe that. Edward and Elizabeth Pleasure had better be alive or things were going to go from bad to worse. For the bad guys, though.

"Okay, okay," a whoosh of air being exhaled indicated that she'd taken a deep breath and let it go, "How do we get out of here?"

Alex went back to examining the bars, and then he looked down at his chained hands. "I'm working on it."

Silence settled and now he thought of how to get out of the chains. He needed something to pick the lock and then – "Who are they, Alex?"

"I don't really know, and frankly, I don't really care."

"Aw, that's too bad," Alex stiffened at the silky smooth voice, "and here I was, thinking you'd give us a warm welcome." Six sets of legs tromped into view.

Dang… he thought as he stared. He hadn't really gone up against these sharks, had he?

They were all over six feet and packed with enough muscle to lift a jumbo jet. Looked like the type of mercenaries you didn't want to mess with. The AK-47's might have added to the image.

One of them was smiling. He had a straight, clean scar running from just below his left eye to touching his jaw. Hair was a buzz cut like the rest of his crew, and they all wore the same nondescript black shirt, black pants and black boots.

Standing together as they were, they looked intimidating as hell.

Scarface lost the smile then. "You really screwed up Ricky's face."

"You really picked the wrong person to try and screw with." Alex snarked back. Something dangerously close to anger flickered through the man's eyes.

"So, are you going to start giving me the speech yet?" At their silence, he sighed. "You know, the whole, 'I've got you exactly where I want you and there's nothing you can do about it'? The 'you're completely helpless and at my mercy and terrible things are going to happen to you'?" Provoking their captives mightn't have been such a great idea, but when had Alex ever been compliant in these kind of situations?

At the words 'terrible things', Scarfaces smile returned. Alex bristled inside, how the hell was he going to escape this posse before the 'terrible things' commenced?

"Oh don't you worry, boy, you're going to think you've gone through hell by the time we're through with you for what you did to Ricky." Scarface nodded at the guy on the far end, and said guy took out a key and opened the cell.

This man was only a little bit taller than Alex and had dark, knowing eyes. Those same eyes raked Alex from head to toe. He was missing part of his pinky.

He smiled widely, too.

As the cell door slammed shut behind Fingers and the rest of the men moved on, Alex felt as though he'd been dunked in icy water.

No. He stared mutedly at the wall outside, approximately eye level of where Scarface had been standing.

"After they're done with them –"

_No_.

He ran forward and pushed Fingers grinning face out of the way. Alex didn't care that he practically slammed into the bars, that his ribs took the brunt of the pain, that he was almost mind-numbingly _terrified _now.

"Tom! Sabina!" he choked out over the noise of a set of keys jingling out of someone's pocket and the mercenaries ribbing each other good-naturedly.

"Alex?" Tom responded. Distress coloured his voice. "What are they doing over here?"

His terror grew to terrifying heights. "Don't let them take you!" A hand roughly grabbed the collar of his shirt and jerked him back to cover his mouth with a big hand.

Alex struggled and then bit down on the palm _hard_. He flung a cursing mercenary away from him and was instantly back at the bars. "Don't let them take her!" He held on when Fingers tried to drag him away again.

"_Don't let them take you_!" he screamed as Fingers gripped his hair and yanked him to the floor. The butt of the AK-47 started to swing toward his unprotected head.

Alex didn't care about that; he only cared about one thing. "_Don't let _–"

He saw stars and then nothing.

* * *

**Author's note: Thoughts?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Violent scenes involved. Read at your discretion.**

* * *

_Don't let them take you!_

Tom stared blankly as two men filed into the cell; for some incomprehensible reason, the others were staying outside.

He'd never ever heard his best friend scream like that before. The words ran around and around in his head, and Tom curled his fists and tensed, unconsciously trying to escape the binds that kept him confined upright on the wall.

_Don't let them take you!_

Someone had either knocked Alex out, or had found a way to shut him up, Tom didn't know.

"Tom?" Sabina's uncertain voice slapped him in the face. He looked up to find her staring with wide eyes at the two hulking men standing in the middle of the cell. She was backed up against the wall, trying to get as far away as she could. She looked younger... Vulnerable.

All he could see was their profiles, and he saw their mouths curl up into grins.

"Tom?" she said again, this time in a weaker voice as the men advanced a little more toward her.

_Don't let them take her!_

A maelstrom of horror and fury and fear swept through him even as realisation struck. He roared and bucked like a demon possessed, and the laughter that drifted into his ear only served to drive him wilder.

"Wait, I like it when they fight." Those seven words sliced through his consciousness like nothing else and Tom froze, breathing heavily and ignoring the raw wounds on his wrists. He was seeing red and black and white and he couldn't control himself as he watched them.

One of the guys was holding Sabina captive against the wall, his hands engulfing both her wrists so they were above her held.

"I want to take this slow." The other cooed with an unholy gleam in his eyes. "Unlock the chains. Let her try to fight."

Sabina was frozen, fear having locked every muscle. Not a single tear escaped her dazed eyes.

"Fight!" Tom cried hoarsely. "Fight them, Sabina, don't let them take you!"

She didn't do anything and a tremble rolled down Tom's body. He wanted to throw up. Tears stung his eyes.

The sound of chains falling from her wrists echoed hollowly through the cell and that was when Sabina started fighting.

She ran, and Tom was numb, because she wasn't running to escape, but she was running towards _him_.

One guy grabbed her waist and effortlessly lifted her flailing form off the floor. "A feisty one, ain't she?" he grinned.

"_Let her go!_" Tom shouted. He started fighting his own restraints and the feeling of dread multiplied its intensity until he thought he would black out. Blood was now leaking from his wrists, but he didn't care. "**_Alex!_**" he screamed brokenly as cotton was ripped and Sabina's body was trapped on the cold floor. With no other way to help her to fight them off, they had only one hope, and Tom instinctively turned to that source. "Alex," he whimpered as he watched her try to claw away from them only to be dragged back and straddled.

"_Please, no_…" he heard her moan, and still, he stared. Her shirt was now in tatters and one man was at her head, hands keeping her arms pinned to the ground, leaving her completely open and helpless.

Tom stared as her ribcage heaved up and down in an effort to accommodate her ragged breathing. The man's hands were in shocking contrast to her olive complexion as a dark tan. They looked _wrong_ on her skin. They didn't belong there.

He was touching her! His mind screamed. They were fucking touching her!

As the man bent his head to her chest, Sabina released a high keening noise. It sounded animalistic and desperate. She thrashed her head about with closed eyes. "No, no, no… no…" she kept softly repeating the words, and Tom felt every 'no' like a bullet to his brain.

She started crying. He started threatening them and when that didn't work, he started to plead and beg for them to stop. Anything, he'd do anything for them to stop _hurting_ her. But that didn't work either.

And then Tom started crying with her, for her. They could've ripped his heart of of his chest and it would've hurt less than what he was feeling right then.

He felt so fucking wretched. Like a part of his soul was being burned away as he watched, and he knew – he _knew_ – that she must be feeling an indescribable amount worse.

She was being violated and she was helpless to do anything about it.

They spent quite a bit of time on her upper body before finally getting to the main event. The man on top of her got between her legs and pulled down his pants.

Tom impulsively closed his eyes, but forced them open again. He had to watch. For Sabina's sake, he had to watch. She would not be alone in this.

He tasted bile in the back of his throat as the man fitted himself against her and he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"**_Let her go,_**" he screamed. "**Let her go!**" His words sparked her fire back and she started fighting like an animal again, trying her best to escape the flesh-and-blood manacles around her wrists, trying to bite anything she could get her mouth on.

One of the men was fortunately close to her, and she got him. "_Fuck!_" he barked out as he whipped his head back. He lifted a hand to touch his jaw and came back with blood. He stared down at Sabina for a moment before bending close to her now quivering but compliant self. "You're going to regret doing that, sweetheart."

Tom knew in that instant that the chances of her living through this ordeal had just gone from slim to none.

The blood that had died down to a trickle was taken to a steady stream as he renewed his efforts against his own bonds.

"**_Alex! Alex!_**" he repeated his best friend's name again and again, as though it would magically summon him. He felt a chill grow inside his chest. For all he knew, Alex could be dead.

No! He refused to believe that. Alex was too good at what he did to have died like that.

"Stop…" she moaned. "Please…"

Then the man thrust, hard and fast, and Sabina let out a shriek of pain.

Tom's vision was blurred by tears as the man above her started to move. They fell when he heard the sound of her quiet weeping.

The asinine sounds of grunts and sighs and the occasionally disgusting murmur had Tom dry heaving and thanking god that he'd missed out on dinner the night they'd been captured. His tears were relentless, and they wouldn't stop as he started to retreat deep into himself.

He needed to be there for Sabina, but it was getting too much. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle it, and it was just –

_Prr. Prr. Prr. Prr._

Tom turned his head at the somewhat loud sound. He'd forgotten about the audience they had, but he didn't now and he felt an intense satisfaction as he watched them all fall. The purr of the automatic gun was not one he would ever forget, nor would he ever forget the goddamn beautiful sight of his best friend striding into his view.

He immediately relaxed and his body went to jelly, so profound was his relief at seeing Alex.

_Everything was going to be all right now._

* * *

**Author's note: not sure how you guys will react to this. Not sure if I wrote it properly as, like all of my work, it's very rough. **


	4. Chapter 4

Alex was a mess inside his mind, his body acting on autopilot, but he saw and heard everything.

Damn it all to hell, but he did.

Staring briefly at the bleeding bodies at his feet, he cranked his head to the right, and continued to stare straight through those bars.

He registered Tom's still form hanging from the wall, head hung low. Was he dead?

Then his eyes went to the floor, to find the two men making those god awful noises, one flailing around on top of Sabina, the other groping and licking at her chest. They'd been too lost in their own sick pleasure to hear the sounds of their friends being mowed down by bullets, Alex realised dimly.

He opened the cell and remembered to thank the powers that be that it didn't creak. Walking up behind the men, he knew if the one at her chest looked up, he would be seen almost instantly.

But he was too busy with a certain female body beneath him.

Leisurely hefting the AK-47 like you would a baseball bat; Alex widened his stance and brought it back near his head for maximum damage – and swung.

Like hearing from another person's ears, the sick, wet _crunch_ echoed through the cell, and like watching from another person's eyes, he saw Man 1 be hit with enough force to have him move with it. He lay, motionless, on the floor. Whether he was dead or not, Alex did not care, what he did care about was that Man 1's body was half on and half off of Sabina.

She'd had her eyes closed when the hit had come, but now cracked them open to see him and have that hysteria change to something close to relief and then plain shock.

Yet to snap out of his automated state, Alex didn't allow Man 2 – who was staring up, open mouthed at being caught so unaware – to make even one sound, as he leaned over and plucked him off Sabina by the shirt.

Man 2 scrambled to find purchase beneath his feet, but he wasn't given a chance to do that as he was flung harshly onto the ground. Alex progressed forward and quickly straddled the man's back with knees on shoulders to neutralise the arms, so that the guy was lying face first, and helpless, on the cold cell floor.

Any shouts of anger or of fear that reached Alex went unheeded, and he took the man's right arm in an iron-grip, slowly lifting the knee that kept that arm useless off.

He needed to break something, and what better thing to break than someone's arm?

"A-Alex," a voice croaked out. Frowning, Alex lifted his head up, looking around the room for the source. He zeroed in on his best friend, who was still strapped to the wall.

The brilliance of the blue in Tom's eyes almost outshone the intensity of the pain that covered his face. It didn't take much longer than a second for Alex to comprehend that he'd been a witness to Sabina's violation. "Alex," he rasped out again. Then he weakly pulled at his bonds and Alex stared at the blood stained things, horror beating at him like a physical thing, but still unable to react.

Unhurriedly, seemingly infinitesimally to his own eyes, he let go of the hand and stood up. The man lay there, huffing and puffing, until he realised he was free and quickly rolled to his feet to attack.

But he was too slow, because Alex had already picked up Sabina's discarded cuffs and now he grabbed Man 2's arm, spinning him around to propel his face into the stone wall of the cell.

A resounding _click_ followed and then he stepped away, toward Tom. On the way there, he used his foot to kick and shove Man 1 off of Sabina, who had covered her face with her hands, body trembling with relief.

Alex stood before his best friend, and he had to crane his head up to look into his eyes. Tom was, quite literally he realised, soaking in his own blood, sweat and tears. "Alex," he said with a shaky smile.

Then, without a word, he turned and walked out of the cell, leaving Tom just hanging there.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex would've smiled, if the situation weren't so dire.

He could feel Tom's stare like a laser between his shoulder blades, and on his retreating back. He wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he was coming back, but he didn't trust himself enough to speak right then. To be truthful, Alex was a little afraid of what might happen if he _weren't_ on autopilot at that moment.

The three men who had been watching from outside the cell were now lying in widening pools of their own blood. The same blood which met the soles of his feet as he got closer to the bodies. This time, a reaction was incited; a slight curl of the lip as Alex vowed to never again go without shoes. Or be caught unaware like that ever again.

He crouched down next to one of the men and started to rummage through the clothing. His hands came away stained red, but otherwise empty.

Carefully stepping over that body, he began to search the others. A set of keys was found on the last man and Alex stood up, clutching them almost triumphantly. He had no idea of the image he presented as he stood amidst four – dead for all anyone knew – bodies, with only his hands and feet covered in blood and a small smile on his face.

Of course, he knew that two of the men were still alive, but one of them was critically injured and wouldn't make it through the next hour without medical help.

Alex couldn't stop the quick, brief sound of amusement from escaping. As if he'd let them get anywhere from here _alive_; the very idea was ludicrous enough to have him biting back another bout of laughter.

He padded back to the cell opening and stopped.

Sabina stood against to Tom, her tattered shirt wrapped flimsily around her body and showing more skin than not, and the waistband of her pyjama boxers broken so it kept slipping unless her hand stayed there. The white knuckle grip she had on his shirt was telling while the rest of her was absolutely blank. Tom was straining against his bonds again – bleeding _again_ – with such a look of protectiveness on his face that Alex almost felt as though he were intruding.

Then he saw why they were acting that way, and he frowned in annoyance. Man 2 was about five feet away from them, his chains preventing further action on his part. He was grinning and Alex watched as he feinted toward them.

Despite her blank face, Sabina still flinched, and a tremble rolled through her frame.

Tom noticed him first, easing back onto the wall and adopting an emotionless look. Sabina found him while trying to avoid Man 2's eyes, but she seemed to stare right through him for an instant before finally seeing him and having the tension fall out of her shoulders.

He walked forward, careful to keep the keys from making any noise and then he kicked the back of Man 2's knee as he silently passed by. The man buckled with a grunt and stared up at him.

Alex stared into his eyes for a second and then dismissed him as he moved on to Tom and Sabina. No one spoke a word as he reached up and began using the keys, one by one.

Soon, he discovered the full weight of Tom's even six feet as he fell from the wall, at last freed from his bonds. Alex let him fall gently to his knees, following him down to the floor, arms around his body to support him.

That's when the shakes started, and the quiet sobbing thereafter.

* * *

Tom hung onto Alex as though he were the only thing keeping him sane, like he was the only hope he had to _stay together_.

He was so close to falling apart. He'd never felt so helpless before.

Not when he and Sabina were taken all those years ago and not when he'd watched as they'd carved their brand onto her body. Not when Alex was being beat up and he couldn't lift a finger to help. Not even when he'd watched a woman begging for her life, for her unborn child's life. No… not even then had he felt this helpless.

Maybe it was because this was entirely too _personal_, he didn't know. All he knew was that he wanted to be left in the cell to wither away and die.

His tears now soaked Alex's shirt, but his best friend didn't complain, didn't crack a joke like usual or slap any sense into him. He just accepted him, like he always had.

Tom knew Alex felt exactly as he did, minus the soap opera crying-like-a-faucet act. He could feel it in the tautness in his muscles, the rigid way he held himself and the continuous flexing of his arms, as though he were restless and needed to get his hands on something.

The tears subsided to him just trying to remember exactly how to breathe. A not quite familiar hand touched his shoulder and he involuntarily jerked away from the contact. He lifted his head from Alex's own shoulder and covered his face with a shaky hand, taking huge gulps of air.

Something sticky touched his face and he pulled his hand away to find it marked with his own blood. Where…?

Oh. Right. The blow that had knocked him out. He couldn't feel it. Funny because his wrist had been practically scraped raw, and he couldn't really feel that pain either, or his hands, for that matter.

A much smaller, softer-looking hand reached into his view and caught his own unsteady one. He forced his eyes to stay glued to their hands; he couldn't bear to look into her blue eyes knowing he'd failed to save her.

"Tom," she said and he flinched. Her voice was grating, and he knew it was because she'd almost lost it screaming and crying for help. "It's okay." This time, she toned it down to a sliver of a whisper. "I heard you."

He looked up with dry eyes and gently seized her down to his level, folding her fragile body into his own. "I'm sorry," his voice cracked with emotion and he wanted to hit himself for saying such menial words. Sorry didn't even begin to cover it, but he didn't know how to tell her, so he just kept repeating it.

And she kept replying with, "I heard you, I heard you… I heard you." All the while stroking his chest through his shirt. The action mollified him little and he held onto her tighter.

"Tom," Alex's blank voice zapped through him like electricity and he snapped his eyes upward. "We have work to do." Tom's gaze slipped to the man standing behind his best friend, watching them with something close to disgust. "You too, Sabina."

He opened his mouth to scold Alex for saying that after she'd been traumatised when he felt the body he was cradling stiffen. "Sabina?" he asked as he looked down.

There was a glimmer in her eye and a hard smile stretched across her bruised lips. She held out a hand to Alex, who grasped it and hauled her up effortlessly.

And that's when Tom understood what exactly was about to go down.


	6. Chapter 6

Alex ignored Man 2 and gestured for Tom and Sabina to walk out of the cell. Mind churning, he thought about what they would do to the remaining two – or three – men who were alive.

An idea popped into his head and he walked over to the pile of bodies, hand reaching out to take a firm grip on someone's shirt. He stood to his full height and, with a strength belying his age, he dragged the body into the cell. The metallic scent of blood was overpowering, so he breathed through his mouth instead. Man 2 stood in a dark corner of the cell, eyes squinted and watchful but betraying no trace of the rage Alex had expected.

He made the trip two more times, stopping Tom's need to help by shaking his head. His wrists must be hurting with every movement and, Alex thought, the cell was by no means the cleanest thing he'd seen, so the risk of infection could carry.

A minor ache in his arms and shoulders said he should have just kicked them into the cell instead – the bodies were each essentially two hundred plus pounds of deadweight. But he'd dragged them in for a reason; for show.

Alex would've dusted his hands, but they weren't dusty, only sticky with blood, so he wiped them on his pants instead. A low, guttural groan of pain came from the floor and he frowned. Who was…? Oh. It was the man with a bullet in his shoulder and a bullet in his leg.

He glanced over to Man 1's still form and tried to ignore the disappointment that ran rampant inside him. He had _not_ been hoping the man would get up; he didn't want _more_ prisoners. Maybe he was still alive though, so Alex strolled over and bent down to check the man's pulse at his neck.

He had two seconds to register the strong ebb and flow of blood beneath the hot skin when a hand shot out from under the body to clamp around his wrist. Man 1 had probably been hoping to capture Alex by surprise; but two seconds was enough as far as warnings went and he didn't even so much as react as the man began to get up.

Man 1 didn't get to his knees – well, he did – as Alex only had to slide forward and clamp his own hand around the man's neck. The movement had brought to his attention the ugly wound on the man's skull; he should have been out for the battle. He must have a really hard head or was just a really determined man, he thought. But Alex didn't care, he just began to squeeze the living hell out of Man 1.

A hand he instinctively knew to be Sabina's tapped his right shoulder and he immediately released the man. The sounds of ragged gasping filled the cavern and his eyes followed the hand, to the arm, to the shoulder, up her neck and finally to her face as she came into view. On her opposite shoulder was the strap of something… Alex's eyes widened at the swinging AK-47 glistening with blood as the light hit it. She must have picked it off one of the mercenaries.

"Leave him for me," Sabina said quietly, and then turned and walked back to the other wall, obviously to keep guard. Alex smiled at her retreating back, and continued to smile as Man 1 was at last able to reorientate himself. Something clanged against the cell bars and he twisted his head round only to see Tom with a full-blown smile stretching across his face. Why was he – Alex gave his best friend his Cheshire grin as he spotted the cuffs and phone.

He signalled Tom to go tie up the men who were alive and unbound and grabbed hold of the electronic device. He wanted to crow as he saw that it was a satellite phone, and stepped out of the cell, going a fair distance down the rank corridor. He pushed in the numbers and waited. Three rings later, the person on the other line picked up. Alex didn't wait for formalities. "Shit, Joe, why haven't you found me yet?" he rasped out.

Noises that sounded a lot like him scrambling to get out of a meeting met Alex's ear and then the sound of two doors opening and closing. "Alex? What the hell happened to your voice? And where the hell have you been?"

"I have no idea where I am. An abandoned prison? Mental institution? There's nothing here but cells; I haven't had the chance to explore yet." He winced because his voice sounded like sandpaper at the moment, and he cleared his throat.

"You, Sabina Pleasure and Tom Harris went completely off radar. Under the grid. There was absolutely no trace of whoever had taken you except for the fact that Mr and Mrs Pleasure were knocked out and hysterical that their 'babies were taken'."

A chill blew through Alex. "The crime scene?" he asked.

"Nothing. Not even a speck of blood, Alex. How did they get you so easily?"

"They didn't," he said sharply. "There should have been glass and blood all over Sabina's bedroom. I made sure to give you plenty of stuff to go on."

"My crew swept the entire house and they found nada."

"Nada?" he repeated. A queasy feeling settled into his stomach; not many people could make something that messy disappear and leave nothing behind. It would have looked normal, but UV lights, finite inspection and etcetera would have revealed at least _something_. Whoever had sent these stupid men along had a lot of money and power. Enough money and power to actually make all hints of the kidnapping vanish. Legitimately vanish.

Which begged the question; if they had all those assets, what the hell were they doing hiring amateur mercenaries? "No witnesses?" he asked.

"I told you, nothing."

"How long until you can come get us out of here?"

"We've just finished pinpointing your location. ETA should be about an hour."

"Where the hell are we?" he demanded. "And how long have we been gone for?"

"Not in San Francisco, buddy," Joe said grimly. "Alex, you've been gone for almost two days now."

New drug, the thought flashed through his head like police sirens. "Joe, that can't be possible."

"Well accept that it is, because it _did_ happen."

Two days he'd been out of it then. He'd fallen unconscious at Sabina's house and then woken up here. Alex scrunched up his forehead, trying to recall something – anything – but he got nothing. Total blackout. Not even half waking at being jostled in a vehicle. Nothing!

Frustrated, Alex growled into the phone, "Arrange for a medical examination when we get back. Bring the clean up crew, as well."

"Alex?" Joe barked out the question. "What did you do?"

He turned around and stared the blood decorating the floor and walls. It look like an explosion of blood, and when Alex trailed his eyes up toward the high ceiling, he was impressed by the slight smatterings of blood there.

"_Alex, what did you do?_" Joe repeated forcefully. A bunch of swear words fell through to his ears and then, "At least leave one of them alive! _Alex –_!"

He promptly hung up, and went back to Tom and Sabina.


	7. Chapter 7

Joe Byrne, thinking-about-retirement Director of CIA Covert Operations, stared incredulously at the phone in his hand. And for the first time in his life, said one thing he had never thought to hear himself say, "_He hung up on me!"_

He glanced up to find people nearby had stopped what they were doing and were staring.

"Alright, you guys know what to do. Get busy." he shooed those he'd assigned the task of retrieving Alex and his friends and they scattered like dandelion seeds. Cussing in his head at his stupid slip, he flicked his eyes over to the window of the room he'd been in moments before. Inwardly cringing to find all eyes either disapprovingly or curiously on him, he cleared his throat, cloaked himself with power and stepped back into the room. Pretending what had just happened had _not_ happened he viewed them with a cool stare, "Sincerest apologies, ladies and gentlemen, but I'm afraid this meeting has to be adjourned to a later date. Something critical has come up that needs my immediate attention."

NSA Director General Nathaniel Young, a fifty-seven year old Caucasian man, straightened his suit as he stood up, papers and briefcase in hand. "Does it concern us?" he asked as he fiddled with his cufflinks. Us being NSA.

Joe thought about it for a moment. "You'll be notified if it does." Alex Rider was a living god among the community, but refused to come into any more contact than necessary. Everything was always on a need-to-know basis with him, and General Young did not need to know. The man nodded and departed from the room, two uniformed men following him.

The rest of the highly important personnel filed out after him, and Joe's finely honed senses detected disgruntlement though there were no external signs. He understood, though, that it was hard to get a meeting like this one together. He'd be annoyed, too.

United States Secret Service Executive Chief, Lauren Ward, was the last, but she stopped in front of him. "Director Byrne," she acknowledged.

"Ward," he acknowledged back.

"I hope you have a good excuse for cancelling this meeting," she said crisply.

When he said nothing, she gave a brittle smile. "It's the boy, isn't it." Never one to confirm or deny, Joe still said nothing. "Do you really think it's wise to cancel a meeting that's been planned for months now in favour of helping a child get out of a tough situation? The defence of the United States of America is at stake here, Director Byrne, I hope you realise that."

Despite a vague need to defend the off-duty spy, Joe kept his mouth shut, his eyes following her as she turned on her heels and left. God, he did _not_ like that woman. Only appointed as executive chief of the SS as of last year, she hadn't been apprised of who Alex was until just two weeks ago, when he'd come over for a visit. And only then, she'd found out because the President had extended Alex an invitation to dinner with the family.

Upon discovering the name of this unknown, Ward had advised against it. Of course, Mr. President had insisted and she'd gone to the Secretary of Defence. He, in turn, had instantly given Alex the green light.

That's when Ward had realised she'd been kept out of the loop. Everyone seemed to know Alex Rider but her.

Such a prideful person, thought Joe. She'd taken an immediate dislike and suspicious nature to Alex when he graciously declined. Trying to dig up every speck of dirt on the British boy, how surprised was she to find him praised and under the protection of a lot of powerful people.

Not to say that Alex wasn't powerful all by his lonesome.

She was forty-three and he was only twenty-one. Less than half her age.

Joe Byrne would've been irked, too, if he didn't personally know Alex. He was a hard person to dislike once you got to know him.

Now, usually, Joe would've handed the whole thing over to the FBI or whatnot. Home soil and everything... but Alex was a different case. Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he walked over to the intercom. "Joan?"

"Yes, sir?" came the reply.

"I need you to get me a direct line to the British MI6, Special Operations Division. ASAP."

"Yes, sir."

"And could you also send over..."


End file.
